


Never Been to Me

by Cobalt_Mystic (Heavenly_Bodies)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Jossverse
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-25 01:26:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/633615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavenly_Bodies/pseuds/Cobalt_Mystic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike can be an angsty introspective bugger at times.</p>
<p>To my mind this takes place after a fight between Spike and Xan. This can be taken as otherwise, but I am a slasher by nature and a Spander by choice, so…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Been to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ, Aug. 12th, 2008

\---------

Where the hells did the boy get off!?!?! Bloody fucking **humans**! Was he that stupid, didn’t he get it? How much did the git expect him to change?

He’d been through too much these last few years. Besides, he figured life up-heaving changes should be kept to once every century or so- at least when they were on the scale his seemed to be on… Fallin’ in with a bunch of humans- the Slayer’s groupies no less, then willingly getting his soul, not to mention falling completely inexorably in love with one of them. Bloody hell!

It started with Dru actually. Hells, it **always** started with Dru. This time, when she left him for good, and a century ago when she turned him.

He shook his head and took a hard pull on his smoke. He’d given up his life to be with her, but it wasn’t enough. He gave up his romantic nature, his ‘poncy’ writing, his Victorian sensibilities, and every desire he had outside of her- basically he gave up himself or rather everything that had made him William. He had to laugh when he thought about that- maybe he still was that man, who else could live up to Queen Victoria’s notions of Duty by giving up their Victorian principles.

It may have taken him a hundred years and a soul to realize it, but he was still William, Big Bad or no, the idealistic poet was still there, still at the core of his being. No wonder Dru left and Angelus hated him- even before the Chip, he was a sorry excuse for a demon. Shoulda seen it, what with two Slayers to his name, as the Scoobies would say, overcompensate much.

Hmph. He looked into the dark night sky at the stars his Drusilla said sang to her, the same stars William would dream of sharing with someone. Dru never liked it when he’d try to hold her and tell her the names of her ‘friends’ or tell her about the constellations and their mythos.

He was tired, suddenly, bone aching, soul searing tired. He couldn’t do this. Didn’t want to do this. He was tired of being with people who didn’t want him- the real him, the him he wasn’t even sure he could find all of anymore. He couldn’t. And he couldn’t be a proper vamp again, even if he wanted to, too much had happened, too much had changed. The irony of that wasn’t lost on him either.

He wondered if he stayed here and watched the sunrise anyone would notice the pile of ash, or if he’d be so much dust on the wind before anyone even realized he was missing. It was only a few hours… and he could rest- maybe, though with his luck he’d wind up haunting Rupert, or worse, Andrew. He shuddered, definitely not worth the risk.

Still dawn was hours away, he could afford to watch the clouds playing in the sky for a while longer- who knows maybe he’d find someone he once knew.


End file.
